


Insanity Theory

by Liz Kenobi (Amidala_Thrace)



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amidala_Thrace/pseuds/Liz%20Kenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his time on Tatooine, Obi-Wan is joined by an unexpected companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insanity Theory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2008 Obidala Valentine Online Convention and for Imadra Blue's [Star Wars Valentine's Day Ficathon](http://imadra-blue.livejournal.com/366755.html). The quote I claimed for the latter was: "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, / While loving someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao Tzu. I also drew inspiration from Battlestar Galactica (2003) and the concept therein of one's consciousness being downloaded to another body. Originally posted February 14, 2008.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan."

Her voice woke him, as it did every morning, and as also happened every morning, he could feel her beside him.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Padmé was lying next to him on the small cot, smiling as she brushed some dirt from his cheek. "When was the last time you showered?" she asked. "Your face is covered with sand."

"You know very well how scarce water is here," he replied, reaching for the cold cup of tea on the night table and taking a careful sip. "Once a week at most is all I can manage. It's a good thing no one else lives here."

"Yes," Padmé said. "It's also a good thing I'm a figment of your imagination."

And so began another Tatooine day.

***

When she first started appearing, Obi-Wan was sure this marked the beginning of his final slide into insanity. Had he at last been driven mad by all the bad memories, the visions that haunted him at night, his self-imposed reduced connection to the Force? He tried to ignore her, but whatever he was doing, wherever he found himself, Padmé invariably followed. He had shouted at her, he had commanded her to go away, he had even attempted to cut her down with his lightsaber. But she would not vanish. And in fact, after he had sliced through her form with the blue blade – a motion that would have bisected anyone else on the spot – she'd simply smiled, moved towards him, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

Obi-Wan was too surprised to resist.

Padmé embraced him, sliding her arms around his shoulders and deepening the kiss, moving her hand down his back in a series of gentle caresses. Unwillingly he could feel his body responding, the beads of sweat beginning to pop out along his brow and his groin stiffening. He broke contact before anything else could happen.

"Wait a minute, just – _wait_ a minute," Obi-Wan said frantically. "I – how is this even _possible?_ You're dead, you're not supposed to be here!"

Padmé arched an eyebrow. She was still just inches away. "So Qui-Gon hasn't yet explained to you about conscious manifestations of the Force?"

Rather than clearing the situation up, this only confused him more. "_What?_ You're … the _Force?_ But Qui-Gon is like that as well, and he can't … he can't speak to me unless I enter a very deep trance, and he certainly can't –"

"Kiss you?" Her voice held the faintest trace of a chuckle. "Have you ever asked him to try?"

"Don't be absurd," Obi-Wan snapped. "Qui-Gon was a very accomplished Jedi, and if _he_ cannot even interact with me outside of a Force trance, how are you able to?"

"I'm different," Padmé smiled.

This was infuriating! He stood and walked towards the small kitchen area where he kept foodstuffs, intending to closely examine the latest supply of tea he'd picked up in Mos Espa. Perhaps there had been some hallucinogens mixed in with the leaves. Although his perceptions hadn't detected anything unusual …

She was right behind him. "I began appearing to you before you bought that tea, and you know it."

"Then maybe it's heatstroke," grumbled Obi-Wan. He picked a packet of tea leaves out of the small container and sniffed it suspiciously. "Hmm. There don't appear to be any foreign substances. That doesn't rule out sabotage at the microscopic level, however."

"What are you so afraid of, anyway?" Padmé wrapped her arms around him once more. "I haven't said or done anything threatening, not once. I have no desire to hurt you, nor to give away your location. So why the sudden need to assume that I must be dangerous?"

"Insanity theory," he mumbled. "If I'm going crazy I should like to know about it in advance."

She laughed. "Oh, but that's no fun!"

"Look." Obi-Wan gently disentangled himself from her arms. "Tell me what you are once and for all or bugger off. Really, this is beyond the point of being funny. Padmé Amidala was a very dear friend to me and –"

Padmé suddenly averted her eyes, stepping a few paces away from him. "You were a very dear friend to her, as well," she sighed. "And at times, more …"

Obi-Wan set the tea leaves down in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"When I said I'm different, I wasn't lying or joking," Padmé replied, settling herself on his threadbare couch. "You were with me when I died on Polis Massa. And in some cases, when a Force-sensitive is with someone about whom they care very much, a … transfer can take place."

"Excuse me?" He blinked. "A – transfer?"

"When you talk to Qui-Gon, you can only interact through entering a trance, as you said. But I am actually inside your head, right at this very moment. On Naboo we believe in the existence of a soul, a portion of a being that continues to live outside the physical body after death. Sometimes, when a body dies, the soul can … attach itself to a person or an object, usually one that was of great significance to the person in life. I just happened to attach myself to you."

"But – but wait a moment," Obi-Wan stammered. "If portions of souls can attach themselves to others, why aren't we all walking around interacting with invisible people? It doesn't make sense."

"It's only in very rare circumstances that this happens," Padmé explained. "You rendered me a very great service before my death. They asked you to be present in the delivery room, which was a time of great pain and suffering for me. Your presence soothed me. It allowed me to live on so that I could deliver the children and provide a new hope to the galaxy. I died, but I died in peace because you were there. I owe it to you to help you find that same peace."

"So … so hold on." His mind was whirling with questions. "Because I was there when you had the twins, you've decided to follow me around as a – ghost? Spirit? Manifestation of the Force?"

"Something like all of those, yes," she smiled. "But I live on inside you. The piece of my soul which left my body after death continues to exist alongside your consciousness. I will be with you until you die."

"And then?" Obi-Wan sank onto the couch, not even realizing he was next to her.

"Who knows." Padmé shrugged. "I don't have _all_ the answers."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, of course not."

Her arm, draped over the back of the couch, was inches from his. Obi-Wan had a sudden urge to reach out and take her hand.

"You kissed me," he said, to distract himself.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," answered Padmé.

Obi-Wan stared at her in disbelief. "That's impossible. When Padmé – when _you_ – were alive, you loved …"

He choked on the name.

"Anakin," she said quietly. "I still love him. I still believe there is good in him. But I loved you as well. I could never let on that I did, because it would have caused even more problems between you than already existed. I had to make a choice, Obi-Wan. I thought I was doing the galaxy a favour when I chose Ani. I thought my love would stabilize him, would help him, would give him something positive to cling to." Padmé snorted. "Well, he clung all right. So much that when he should have let go, he couldn't. On my wedding day I wanted to believe I'd made the right choice. But I didn't."

"Yes, well, there's a lot of that going around the galaxy at the moment," Obi-Wan said bitterly. "You're not alone."

"This time, I want to make the right choice," Padmé insisted. "I want to help you, Obi-Wan. Will you let me? Will you allow me to help you?"

He knew just how important the prospect of fixing one of her mistakes might be to her. He had often longed for a chance to do so himself. And hadn't he counted among his failures the fact that Padmé died on Polis Massa? Perhaps he was getting a chance to fix one of his mistakes after all. To make the right choice.

"All right," Obi-Wan replied.

***

He had expected her to disappear soon after she revealed her purpose in being there, to tell him that her task was finished and that he no longer needed her. But Padmé did not disappear. Instead, she stuck by him, accompanying him on his every errand to Mos Espa, coming with him to check on Luke (she particularly enjoyed those visits, even though she could not interact with her child), and talking, for hours on end. Now, Obi-Wan was well accustomed to having her around. She had been with him for over a year.

"What shall we do today?" Padmé asked as he stood in the kitchen area preparing breakfast for himself.

"I need to pick up new parts for the moisture vaporator, I think the compressor is failing again," Obi-Wan replied. "And I thought on the way back we could stop over at the Lars farm."

"Nothing just for us?" She sounded disappointed.

He blushed. "I thought you liked it when we visit Luke."

Padmé rose from where she had been sprawling on the couch and embraced him from behind. "I do. But I want you and I to spend some time together. You've been so worried about that vaporator, you've barely given me so much as a kiss all week."

Her hand was sliding as she spoke, moving down his back and then around to his stomach, slipping lower to grasp the erection already growing at her touch …

"All right," he consented. "Before we leave, we can … do that."

This had been one of the unexpected benefits of Padmé's return to his life. He had not expected anything beyond her first admission that she loved him, nor had he _wanted_ her to pursue that line of thinking. For he himself had long harboured feelings that were more than friendly towards her. He'd never told her in life, because of the Code and because he was well aware that Anakin's prior claim put her strictly off-limits. But now, with her constant presence and the fact that she had kissed him first, seeds of desire began to sprout in Obi-Wan's mind. Still he had resisted, being a staunch follower of Jedi doctrine. It was only after Qui-Gon had lambasted him for wasting time during one of their training sessions that he started to return her affections.

Now, they kissed passionately, arms encircling one another and breath quick and shallow in the enclosed hut. Padmé pushed him gently onto the couch, her hands snaking between his rough desert tunics to grasp his cock. A soft but fervent hiss escaped his lips and he rose slightly off the couch, ready to allow her access … but she shook her head.

"Not yet," Padmé whispered. "Soon, my love."

She pleasured him first, running three fingers lightly up the shaft and slowly encircling it with her hand. The slow pace was almost maddening, but Obi-Wan was accustomed to this: often, she liked to tease before allowing him to succumb to his body's will.

Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead in the already stifling morning heat. He paid no attention. It was far easier to focus on her, on her gently smiling face, on her brown eyes brimming with passion, on her hands, which somehow knew exactly where they ought to touch to produce the best feelings. In his more lucid moments Obi-Wan sometimes wondered how she did it, but then, if she was some sort of embodiment of the Force, surely she could simply reach inside his mind and pluck out that information as easily as one might pick a flower.

Padmé soon sped up the intensity of her strokes, allowing him to thrust into her hand and reaching down to roll his balls gently between her fingers. She demanded nothing, other than that they make love afterwards. She never mentioned her husband, and they never spoke of Anakin. It was just Padmé and Obi-Wan and their love, and that was precisely how he liked it.

He thrust faster now, sensing his climax approaching, fingers clutching the couch and legs clasping her thin form. And then he was there, the white-hot pleasure of the orgasm breaking over him as she smiled, face alight with excitement, and when he finished those eyes were all he saw.

"I told you it would be fun," she said, a twinkle of amusement visible in her eyes.

"You haven't lied yet," Obi-Wan managed between pants.

"Nor will I ever," was Padmé's response as she lowered herself, inch by inch, on top of him. He could still smell the faint salty aura of his seed on her hands as they began to move in concert.

***

His eyes snapped open.

Fire.

He could still _smell_ it, could still smell the lava bank and the bubbling flames and the scorched rock and Anakin's flesh, crackling, crackling before it burned –

"_No_," Obi-Wan whispered.

_Those eyes, glowing yellow, they were not the eyes of his friend, nor of his comrade, nor of his brother. They were the eyes of the ugly entity he had become. They were the eyes of a creature who could scream, "I HATE YOU!" with such ferocity that it had to be true, Anakin could not have ever loved him, could not have ever respected him …_

He realized he was shaking.

"Shh," a soft voice murmured. Obi-Wan felt the touch of her fingers on his back. "You've had a nightmare."

"I …" He had to swallow hard before he could continue. "I … realize that, yes."

Strong arms wrapped around him. "You still have nightmares, even after more than a year," she said.

"Some of the events I witnessed are rather difficult to forget," Obi-Wan reminded her, a little defensively.

Padmé brushed a strand of hair back from his face. "I know. I feel the same way."

"How can you? You didn't have to see children … the children you took from their homes, the children whose parents you promised … you didn't have to hear the last words he said to you …"

"No," she agreed.

There was a pause.

"But actions speak louder than words," Padmé continued, pulling him forward for a kiss.

***

Outside the small hut, Owen Lars shook his head as he dropped an extra compressor for the moisture vaporator outside the door.

"First all that Force mumbo-jumbo, then teaching Luke to levitate stuff," he muttered as he walked away. "Now he's talking to himself. Crazy old wizard."


End file.
